Whose Fist is This Anyway?

Something’s up with my lappy.  Popups have recently become a real problem.  Ah, I really don’t care if it dies.  Obviously I’ll strive to replace it as soon as I can, but better to have to do that than, say, cancel my bank accounts or something.

It’s getting about that time.  I need to get another job.  I should have already gotten one, but many factors (lack of availability, simply never hearing from the places I apply, and not least of all laziness, or more accurately, apathy) have kept that from happening.  I also happened to intercept a text message from Minnie’s mother, the Devil, addressing my current lack of employment instead of taking responsibility for replacing Minnie’s tires.  The tires that, if I’ve never mentioned it, her goddamn mother has caused all the wear and tear on in the fucking first place.  I’m a little angry about all this– what the fuck does my not having a job have to do with getting tires on a car I don’t own or drive?  I’ve probably refrained from talking about this at any length, because I know Minnie reads this diary from time to time, and I also know some of my harsher comments upset her somewhat. 

However, as much as I don’t give a FUCK what the Queen of Darkness thinks of me, I also don’t like giving her the satisfaction of being able to say anything about me, so when I start finding out what the coward/bitch is saying about me behind my back, that’s when it’s time to take away her ammo.